


Puppy Love

by shiniestqueen (sparrowinsky)



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I haven't finished the season ok, Set in some vague time after Frank got the dog, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, oh yeah and the dog is in this briefly, vague mention of assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowinsky/pseuds/shiniestqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth really likes dogs, so when one smacks right into her with a handsome guy on the other end of the leash, a guy who says her soulmark words, she hopes for the best.</p><p>She doesn't get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Love

**Author's Note:**

> The name Buddy for the dog comes from [ozhawk](), which is appropriate since she bunnied me for this fic aaaaages ago.

The morning was cool with a light breeze that was worth a sweater, which naturally meant it was the morning Beth had forgotten hers. Resigned to the cold, she settled on her favorite bench and unpacked her breakfast. 

She ate mechanically. It was hard to scrounge up interest in anything with just egg whites, even if her cousin swore they were delicious. At least the coffee was hot. 

And she had a view of the dog park. 

It wasn't quite like having a dog, but right now it was the only version she could afford. 

“Good morning, Beth!”

Beth grinned and waved at the Johnsons as they approached. The elderly couple always reached the park within five minutes of Beth sitting down on her bench, and as usual Sir Woofington bounded gleefully ahead of them. 

Beth raised her voice and waved her breakfast sandwich at him. “Woof! You hungry?” The poodle angled toward her. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and she laughed as she ripped a corner of bread off. “You’re giving your breed a bad name, you dork.” 

Woof swallowed the bread and nearly took her fingers with it before snuffing at her hand for more. She shook her head and dug her fingers into his soft black curls, scratching the base of his neck as the Johnsons reached them.

“I think he’s more pleased to see you than he is to play, Beth!” Mrs. Johnson snatched up the poodle’s leash, giving it a quick tug before handing it to her husband with a scathing glance. “Will you  _ please _ stop dropping his leash?” 

“Nah,” Beth said with an easy smile. “He just wants my breakfast. Isn’t that right, Woofington?” 

“Well, he’s had enough of it, that’s for certain,” Mr. Johnson replied. He’d taken the leash without looking and held it loosely. “Do you work today, my dear?”

Beth groaned theatrically in response, drawing a laugh from both that had Woofington wiggling in excitement. “Of course, I’m always working. I’m a coffee-serving robot. Who has to go serve coffee right about now, actually. Have a great day, you guys!”

She’d have to run to make it to work on time, but it was worth it. The dog park was the best part of her day. 

Beth hadn’t made it halfway to the path out of the park before a dog lurched into her from behind, knocking her into the wet grass.

“Shit!” 

“Fuck, sorry.” The man who reached down for her pulled her up like she was a feather before picking up her bag as well. The sight of his broad shoulders would have made her mouth go dry if it wasn’t already for an entirely different reason.

“That’s all right, dogs will be dogs,” she said softly, watching his eyes. The dog in question snuffed happily at her knees, leaving a streak of slobber on the hem of her dress. 

The man froze for a long moment while his dog danced at her feet, tangling in his leash. His expression was the definition of grim and Beth ducked down to pick up her ruined coffee to hide her dismay. He was still staring when she straightened up. Beth’s fingers clenched, nails digging into the remains of her coffee cup as she took a deep breath and told herself  _ be brave! _ “Is- were- I’m sorry, I know it’s rude to ask, but were those your words?”

He jerked like she’d taken a swing at him, rocking back on his heels and snapping his mouth shut so fast she’d swear she heard his teeth click together. His dark eyes bored into her and her heart tripped a little faster. 

“No,” he said finally, the word coming out rough and low.

“...oh.” Beth suddenly understood what  _ mortified _ meant. This was a little more than embarrassment. In the same way that the sun was a  _ little  _ bigger than the moon. She snatched her bag from his hands and backed away. “I- have to go. I’m late for work. Sorry about--” she gestured at the space between them as her breath caught in her throat, her next word coming out as a squeak. “Bye!”

Bravery was overrated, Beth thought as she bolted from the park at a speed that wasn’t  _ quite _ a run. Especially bravery in the face of acting like a complete idiot in front of a hot guy, soulmate or not.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of vacant smiles and mechanically taken orders. When the door was locked behind the last customer at the end of the day she dropped into a chair and laid her head down on the table with a groan.

“Rough day, hon?” Heather, the other waitress on the closing shift, brought over two cups and what was left of the last pot of coffee. “I keep telling you, the double shifts aren’t worth it.”

“It's not that,” Beth groaned without raising her head. “It’s-- ugh. It's stupid.”

“Ohhhh!” The word was drawn out and rich with amusement. “ _Boy_ _trouble_ ,” Heather went on knowingly. 

Beth turned her head just far enough to glare at the other waitress. Heather stared back innocently, a smirk hovering just behind the sweet smile. “Girl trouble?”

Beth signed. “I hate having a generic soulmark.”

“...oh.” The smile evaporated from Heather’s face. She reached forward and patted Beth on the arm. “I'm sorry, honey. How bad was it?”

“ _ Awful!”  _ The word exploded out with more force than she expected. She instantly flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry. I just…”

“Don't worry.” With a wry smile, Heather gestured to the  _ are you ok?  _ scrawled up her arm. “I get it. You have no idea how long I spent playing the klutz for this mark.”

“I knoooow.” Beth groaned, pushing herself upright. Her feet ached, but it didn’t begin to measure up to the sting of embarrassment she still felt, hours later. “It wouldn’t bother me, you know? Usually? But he was so… ugh,  _ so _ good looking. I think he’s in the dictionary under ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’ And he looked at me like he couldn’t wait to get away from the crazy girl asking about his soulmark. And his dog was  _ so cute _ .”

“Ouch.” The other waitress patted her again. “You know what? Go on home. I’ll finish closing up and you can bury your woes in internet and ice cream.”

“Are you sure?” Beth glanced around the restaurant. She couldn’t deny that a pint of cookie dough ice cream sounded fantastic right about now. “It’s not really fair to let you--”

“Seriously, Beth,  _ go home _ . You’ll owe me one, how about that?” 

A little voice in the back of her head-- sounding a heck of a lot like her dad-- grumbled about responsibilities, but Heather’s words were all the motivation Beth needed to grab her bag and book it out of the restaurant, her friend’s laughter following her out the door.

Normally she took the safest path home to her apartment at the edge of Hell’s Kitchen, especially after a closing shift: a roundabout trail that avoided every dubious alley and blown-out street light possible. Tonight all Beth could think about was getting out of her grubby uniform and collapsing on her bed with her laptop. She made a beeline for home, thinking longingly of warm fudge and cold ice cream, not even aware of how distracted she was until she heard the click of a gun behind her.

Beth froze in midstep, eyes going wide. A soft laugh came from her left.

“Ah-ah-ah… look at that, she even knows the drill. Don’t worry, sweetie, we’re not after  _ everything _ tonight.” Footsteps crunched over glass and grit until a hand entered her sight from slightly behind her and snapped its fingers.

“I dunno, man,” the mugger to her left muttered as she scrabbled at the strap of her bag. “She’s pretty cute.” It took everything Beth had not to let out a shriek at his words. Her heart felt like it was about to thunder out of her chest.

“Please,” she whispered as she held out her purse, knowing it wouldn’t matter either way. She squeezed her eyes closed and went on. “Everything’s in there, my wallet, my phone, everything.”

“How about y-”

_ crack _

It didn’t seem loud at first. Then Beth heard the dulled sound of yelling to her left. The world seemed to move in slow motion as she registered  _ gunshot _ and stumbled forward, a scream welling up out of her throat, and metal clanging loudly across the street. Then something hit the back of her head and Beth tumbled into the gutter, knees scraping on the pavement.

Footsteps thudded nearer. She turned her head slowly, trying to push herself up from the ground, but for some reasons her arms didn’t want to work... but she had to get up, she knew she had to get up.

As she turned her head she saw a skinny man in a jacket point a gun at the man from the dog park. Her vision blurred then and her vision faded to the  _ crack _ of snapping bone. 

***

She woke in warm, silent darkness with a dull throbbing at the back of her head.

“Augh…” Flailing for purchase on the soft and slightly slick surface-- sheets, she was lying on sheets-- Beth managed to roll onto her side. She groaned again as the movement doubled the throbbing, digging her fingers into the sheets as a wave of nausea rolled over her. Her knees stung.

Even without opening her eyes, she knew she wasn’t in her apartment.

She remembered the mugging, though the memory was a little fuzzy at the edges and some of it was hard to believe. The man from the dog park, the man who didn’t share her words… had he really saved her? How had he even known to be there?

_ It was an accident _ , Beth told herself, forcing her eyes open.  _ He was passing by. _

Gritting her teeth, Beth kicked her feet off the bed and shoved herself upright. Wincing with pain as she moved too fast,  she reached back and let her fingers drift over the base of her skull. There was a lump there, sore, but not sticky with blood like she'd half-feared. Her knees were bandaged. And her dress was still on. Something in Beth’s chest unknotted and she took a deeper breath. 

She was in a dark room that smelled clean but vaguely acrid, underlaid with a smell that tugged at some distant memory. A door opposite the bed was cracked ajar, letting a slim wedge of light fall across the floor. Lingering fear knotted in her throat, but Beth crept to the door, curling her fingers around the edge to keep it from moving, and peered out.

A broad-shouldered man was perched on the edge of a ratty couch, curled in on himself with his head buried in his hands. Beth winced in sympathy at the way his fingers dug into his scalp. Whether he was trying to hold himself together or tear himself apart, she couldn’t tell, but frustration practically dripped from every line of his body.

It really had happened. The man from the dog park had saved her life and, apparently, tended her wounds. Beth couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her as she recognized him, and the door drifted away from her slackened fingers with a creak.

He shot to his feet and turned so quickly that she barely registered the motion until he was halfway across the room, the thin carpet doing nothing to muffle his heavy footsteps. Beth gasped again, stumbling backward. The back of her knees struck the bed and she tumbled onto it as he swung the door open. Somehow she’d already forgotten how  _ big _ he was. He filled the doorway, blocking out most of the already dim light.

“Please--” was all she managed before he moved again, this time backing out the door as he raised his hands. 

“Hey, hey.” The grim set of his eyebrows relaxed as, with visible effort, he forced his face into an expression something like neutral. “I’m not going to hurt you. Beth, right?” There was a hitch in his voice as he said her name, so fleeting she thought she must have imagined it.

“How-- you looked in my purse?” She couldn’t keep the streak of anger out of her tone, even as the rest of her mind reminded her that knights in not terribly shiny armor probably got a pass on looking through one’s things. He stared at her and she bit her lip before going on. “...you saved my life. Right?”

His shoulders twitched and his gaze drifted as he rubbed the back of his neck. For the first time she registered the bruise across his jaw and cheek, red and purple blooming on his skin. “You can stay here ‘til morning,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t be walking around after that. Shouldn’t be goin’ down those streets at night at  _ all _ , Beth.” He finally looked back at her, almost a glare.

Goosebumps chased down her arms. The way he said her name…

She looked down, cheeks stinging with warmth. She couldn’t admit why she’d been so distracted, not to  _ him _ . 

“No,” Beth managed after the silence between them reached ‘painfully awkward.’ “No, I… I should go.” With the door open she could see her shoes and bag resting on the window sill and she all but dove for them, desperate for any excuse to avoid his eyes. She yanked her shoes on and turned back to the door. He hadn’t spoken, still didn’t speak, as she moved to leave. He just stepped back and sideways, filling the doorway with his bulk, a barrier of human flesh she had no hope of passing without his co-operation.

Beth stopped in her tracks. Her stomach fluttered with suppressed hope as she waited for him to say something. 

He didn’t.

“...ok.” Beth rolled her shoulders back and tipped her chin up, wishing she didn’t feel so ridiculously small. “Thank you for saving my life, guy who’s name I don’t even know? Now please move so I can go home.” She took a step forward in the hopes that she could--  _ what? Intimidate him out of the way? ... _ It was awful to feel like your own internal voice was laughing at you.

“I lied,” he rumbled. Beth blinked, some of the belligerence leaching out of her. 

“Huh?”

“This morning, I… lied. About my words.” One big hand moved slowly to the hem of his shirt. As he lifted it she saw her curled handwriting looping across his belly and hip.

“Oh.” Beth shivered again. Then anger flickered through her like lightening. “ _ Why? _ Why would you do that? Do you know how--”

He pulled the shirt up further, and her words and her fury sputtered to a stop as she took in the grayed-out words slanting in an arc over at the top of his ribs.

“--how,” she repeated, staring at the words.

“I got my first soulmate killed.” The words tumbled out of him, half-snarled. “I got-- she died, and she-- you know she used to tease me about your mark? Just one on her, just mine, and she laughed at me for worryin’ about it. Said it was fine.” He raked his hand over his close-shaved hair, mouth twisting as he took a step forward. He wasn’t looking at her. “She thought we were gonna be one big cozy family, liked to talk about the dog we were gonna get, y’know, wondering if you were gonna be good with the kids.”

“Kids,” Beth echoed weakly.

“And they--” he choked on a laugh, or maybe a sob, slumping back against the doorframe. After a moment he spoke again, voice all but empty. “I wouldn’t have that dog if they hadn’t died. She had to die so I could meet you? How’s that fair?”

Beth scrunched her eyes closed, but the tears were already spilling out. Her heart ached. “It’s not. I’m so sorry.” She tried to imagine his life, but she couldn’t hold onto the idea. Two soulmates, and they’d had  _ kids _ and he’d lost them  _ all _ . She couldn’t fathom how he was still surviving, let alone anything else.

“...ah, Christ,” he muttered, suddenly sounding as exhausted as he looked. “It’s sure as hell not your fault.”

“No… but I’m still sorry. Sorry that you hurt… that you went through that. I wish it’d been different.” Beth scrubbed at her eyes with a weak laugh. “I’m not sure I’m much of a substitute for a family, but… I’ve only got one mark, too.” She took a deep breath and stepped into his space, looking up at him. “I only get one shot, you know?”

His eyes darted away and he licked his lips, rocking on his heels almost like he wanted to back away from her. “You, uh--...look, I’m pretty sure you don’t want that shot with  _ me _ .”

“I’m pretty sure I do.” Beth smiled up at him, hoping it looked more assured than she felt.

“I kill people.” He said it flatly, still not looking her in the eyes. Part of her quailed at the words, but maybe today had just been  _ too _ much, because the concept washed over her without much impact. When she spoke, her voice didn’t so much as quaver.

“People who deserve it?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” he snarled, and Beth was  _ almost _ ashamed of the way it made her want to lean into him.

“Ok.” She backed up, turning away from him to deposit her bag back on the windowsill. She turned back, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath before offering him her brightest smile. “Ok. Let’s try this again--”

With a happy huffing noise, the dog barreled through the door on a direct path to her. Beth barely had time to turn her back to the bed before the dog had jumped against her to greet her with enthusiastic licks. Beth burst into laughter as she fell against the bed, scratching the dog’s ears. “How did I forget about you? Such a good dog! No, no, no mouth kisses, thank you!”

“Aw-- Buddy! Down!” The weight of the dog lifted away. She grinned up at her soulmate, his face a mix of amusement and concern as he pulled the dog off the bed. 

“Buddy, huh? It suits him.” She took the hand that was offered, trying not to think too hard about how warm and calloused it was. “What about you?”

“Frank. Uh, Frank Castle.” His smile was just a hint at the corner of his mouth, but Beth called it a victory and let herself cheer silently in the safety of her mind. 

“Well, ok, Frank-- and Buddy. Like I said. Let’s try this again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have been bunnied for a continuation to this, so... that might happen.


End file.
